


To the Day's Rising

by MisplacedLonelyHeartsAd



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Episode Tag, Episode: s10e10 The Hunter Games, Gen, Missing Scene, POV Dean Winchester, the bunker
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-27
Updated: 2015-01-27
Packaged: 2018-03-09 09:19:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3244361
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MisplacedLonelyHeartsAd/pseuds/MisplacedLonelyHeartsAd
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short missing scene for s10e10 The Hunter Games. Dean and Sam talk before Dean leaves to see Claire.</p>
<p>
  <em>“I don’t need a symbol to remind me how I feel about my brother,” he’d said to Marie.<br/>“Have you ever considered,” she’d asked, “that you might need a symbol to remind you how your brother feels about you?”</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	To the Day's Rising

 

> _“I don’t need a symbol to remind me how I feel about my brother,” he’d said to Marie._
> 
> _“Have you ever considered,” she’d asked, “that you might need a symbol to remind you how your brother feels about you?”*_

 

*****

Dean moved with quick, silent strides down the corridor to his brother’s room. The lights were on, though Dean knew the way in the dark. He could always calculate, with remarkable accuracy, the amount of time it would take to get to his brother’s side, no matter where he was.

Sam’s door was slightly ajar, which Dean took as license to push it open gently without knocking. He stepped in near enough to the bed that he could hear his brother’s quiet, even breaths, and as his eyes adjusted to the dimness, he allowed himself a moment to remain still and listen to the familiar, reassuring sound.

Sam lay on his stomach, close to the far edge of the mattress, his face turned away, his arms under the pillow, and—Dean knew without a doubt—his hand on his knife. Dean retreated to a safe distance before whispering “Hey, Sam.”

As Sam jolted awake and twisted around, instantly alert, Dean quickly added, “Nothing’s wrong.” Sam assessed him head to foot before allowing himself to sag back against his pillow, and as he relaxed, the languor of sleep seemed to creep back into him.

“What time is it?” he yawned. He spoke very quietly, as they usually did when alone in the dark.

“About six. Don’t get up; I just wanted to tell you I was going.” Dean moved near the bed and pulled up the bedspread which was threatening to slide to the floor. “Here,” he said as he dropped it over his brother. It was always freezing in this room. He supposed that Sam liked it that way, as he’d never complained.

“What? Where?” Sam looked incredibly young as he clutched automatically at the bedspread, blinking up at Dean.

“You know, to see Claire. Figure it takes three hours at least to get there. I couldn’t sleep anyway, might as well get an early start.”

Sam sat up, saying, “Yeah, but I’m going with you.” Dean sat down and pressed his hand into his brother’s chest to prevent him from rising.

“No, Sam, I don’t think you should.” Sam sat frowning at him but said nothing as Dean struggled to articulate why, exactly, he didn’t want his brother along this time. _She’s all alone_ , he thought. _Life dealt her a crappy hand, just like it did to us, but the difference is, she had nobody. I had you. I still have you. Why remind her of the unfairness of it all?_

“I just—I don’t want her to feel like we’re ganging up on her, you know?” he said at last to his brother’s questioning eyes. “I mean, I don’t even know what I’m gonna say to her.”

Sam sighed and slid back into a reclining position, settling on his side with his head propped on his hand. “Okay,” he acquiesced.

“Really?” Dean said in mild surprise before he could help himself.

“Yeah,” Sam smiled up at him. “Sorry you couldn’t sleep.”

“I got a couple hours in,” Dean replied. “I’m good. You know me.” They were still speaking in low voices, as though trying to avoid awakening someone slumbering unseen nearby.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam began, then paused.

“What?” Dean asked as the pause lengthened.

Sam took a deep breath, and Dean tensed up uneasily. “I—you know what Cas said, about you being extremely messed up…”

“Uh, yeah.”

“I don’t—I mean, you’re not, you know. Messed up,” Sam finished as ineloquently as Cas himself.

Dean relaxed and chuckled. “Yes, I am,” he contradicted gently.

“Not to me,” said Sam earnestly. “You’re—” he looked away with an embarrassed little laugh, shaking his head. “You’re amazing.”

The unexpected words shocked Dean’s natural responses—rolling his eyes and scoffing—into paralysis as his mouth fell open a little. His brain brandished several sarcastic ripostes on the tip of his tongue: _I know; Yeah, right; Aw, Sammy, how sweet_ ; but what came out was a simple and sincere, “Thanks.” He was glad it was dark; he was blushing, too. Stupid Sam. Trust him to bring something like that up so early in the morning. _Now I have to think about this all day long._

He stood up abruptly. “I’m gonna take off.” His voice sounded too loud after their hushed conversation. “Go back to sleep. Is Cas coming back here, did he say?”

Sam shrugged. “I don’t know.” Dean turned to leave, and as he reached the door Sam called out, “Hey, you’ll call me, won’t you?”

Dean couldn’t help laughing. “You—” he spluttered, looking back.

“What?” Sam demanded.

“You sound like we just hooked up or something,” Dean snorted.

Sam made a face, then fired back playfully, “So you’re not even gonna stay for breakfast? What a gentleman you turned out to be.”

“Hey, I made coffee. It should still be hot,” Dean retorted. “Seriously,” he added. “And yes, I’ll call you.”

“Thanks,” said Sam, still smiling broadly, and Dean thought that he would do anything to keep that look on his face.

“I’ll be back before dinnertime, anyway,” he continued, lingering in the doorway.

“Is that a hint for me to cook your dinner?” Sam responded. “Man, you’re becoming less and less of a catch as you go on.”

“Making grilled cheese sandwiches is not cooking, Sammy,” Dean flung back as a parting shot.

“Ingrate!” Sam yelled after him. Dean could hear the grin in his voice.

_“After all I’ve done for you,”_ Dean continued the cliched phrase in his head. _Sam, you’ve got no idea_. He felt buoyant, his confidence checked only a little by the recollection of Claire. _I can do this,_ he thought as he approached the Impala. He slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition, touching the mark on his arm without looking down. The rumble of the engine, which had formed the background noise of countless conversations, arguments, competitions with his brother, filled his ears as he glanced at the empty seat beside him.

_You can do this_ , said Sam’s voice, soft and close in the dark corridors of his mind.

He adjusted the rear-view mirror, stretched his right arm across the top of the seat, and smiled.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> *Marie did not actually say this, of course, but I wish she had.
> 
> On the title: Tolkien fans will recognize the title as part of Eomer’s song “Out of doubt, out of dark to the day’s rising” on the Pelennor Fields just before he sees Aragorn’s banner unfurled from the Black Ships.
> 
> Thank you for reading. I appreciate any feedback!
> 
> You can find me on tumblr at: [amisplacedlonelyheartsad.tumblr.com](http://amisplacedlonelyheartsad.tumblr.com) or on LJ at: [misplaced_ad.livejournal.com](http://misplaced_ad.livejournal.com)


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